Red Widow
by PurpleStormAngel
Summary: Red Widow. The famous female vigilante and partner to Spider-man. Everyone knows the story of the girl in the mask, but what about the story of the girl behind the mask? Read the secret untold story of Red Widow.


**Red Widow**

**AN: Okay this was my first story I ever posted on FanFiction. I took it down to edit it because I didn't think it made for interesting reading. Constructive criticism would be helpful. Also my Spiderman is based mostly on The Amazing Spiderman movie (2012) with a little bit of the Spiderman 1 movie (2002). It is based after the Avengers movie (2012). I've also added a little a bit of the X-men universe**

**Disclaimer: Listen up people I'm only gonna say this once. I do NOT own the Avengers, Spiderman, X men, Sherlock Holmes or anything else you may recognise in this story. All I own is some twists in the plotline and my OC. **

**Now on to the story!**

**Chapter 1: Welcome to my messed up life**

My name is Angelina Lily Potts-Stark and before you ask, yes, I am the daughter of the famous billionaire Tony Stark aka Ironman, and yes, I do live with all of the Avengers, even Loki! 16 years ago something amazing happened to me that completely changed my life. Something that was an accident, an almost impossible accident. Sometimes it's a blessing and sometimes it's a curse. And sometimes, on a bad day, I wish I could go back in time to change what happened. But, like Mum, who is Pepper Potts in case you were wondering, always said "Everything happens for a reason but sometimes we're not sure why." This is my story of how everything changed and it is not for the faint hearted, my live isn't a fairy tale and sometimes parts of it don't have a happy ending. And it all started with an old friend, a million dollar company, a dark tangle of secrets and an accident which led onto the origins of the famous vigilantes Spiderman and Red Widow.

Monday the 17th of April, 2012

Another day of school to survive without being bothered by the cheerleader lot. With superheroes for parents, hanging out with mutants, yes mutants, and not being really that girly made me stand out. I didn't really fit in but I still had friends, I wasn't that unusual. A blond haired couple were passionately making out on a set of lockers as a teenage boy was trying to get into those said set of lockers. He had dark brown hair that grew all over the place, light bronze skin, and had his navy blue hoodie pulled up over his head with a army green coloured jacket on the top. He looked familiar somehow, but I couldn't place where I had seen him before.

I brushed a strand of raven black hair out of my eyes as I clicked the combination on my locker open, and collected my books for the rest of the day. Before I forget I should really describe what I look like for further references. I'm medium height with a slender figure, not really an hourglass but quite similar. I'm lightly tanned, like my father but, like my mother, I have a splash of freckles dotted over my slender nose, which isn't hooked whatever anyone would like you to believe. I've never needed glasses or contacts and my almond shaped eyes are hazel, a soft green that slowly fades to brown around the pupil, framed by naturally thick black eyelashes. Like you may have guessed I have long raven black hair that falls in soft waves down to the small of my back. Today, I was wearing a navy pair of skinny jeans over a black floaty silk blouse and a dark red leather jacket, similar to the one Martha jones wears in season 3 of Doctor Who. What a fantastic TV show with the most awesome hero, a 945 year old Time Lord, kick ass companions and freaky monsters, like the Judoon, Cybermen, Daleks... Oh gods, I've gotten completely distracted. Oh well, that's what it's like inside my brain. On my feet I wore a classic pair of converse high tops, black base with white laces. That's what I look like today. Back to reality.

After a couple of periods I came into the quad, trying to find a quiet place to do some sketching. I loved sketching. Uncle Steve taught me how to when I was younger and now I love it. Suddenly a commotion started in the middle of the quad. Chants of "EAT IT, EAT IT!" sounded from the horde of excited teenagers, eager to participate in the action. I had a good feeling that Flash, the king of the school bullies, was definitely in the middle of the mob. And when Flash was involved, something bad was always going to happen. Sighing, I shoved through the horde and stood at the very front row in the swarm of people. Eugene "Flash" Thompson, as I had guessed, stood next to a table and was holding a nerdy looking boy upside down and pushing his face into a plate of cafeteria food. "Eat your vegetables Gordon, come on!" Flash yelled at the skinny boy. The same boy I had seen earlier in the hallway stepped in the circle. "Peter, take a picture," Flash shouted at Peter then held the boy, Gordon I suppose, sideways so Peter could take the picture. So that was his name, Peter. Where have I heard that before?

"Don't take the picture," I whispered to myself.

"Put him down Flash," Peter calmly said to him.

"Take the picture Parker," Flash yelled more anger in his tone. WHAT?! The Peter Parker! Here, in school? He was one of my best friends before that terrible tragedy of his parents' death that forced Peter over to the other side of the city, to live with his aunt and uncle, when he was only 8. Ben and May I think their names were. No wonder I didn't recognise him. I hadn't seen him for 9 years or so.

"Gordon don't eat it man," Peter said to the boy.

"Take the picture Parker!" Flash yelled angrily.

"Put him down, Eugene!" Peter shouted at Flash. Everybody in the circle groaned. Flash hated being called Eugene. Peter rushed forwards to try and help the boy that Flash had dropped behind him. Flash punched Peter in the face. The crowd started to chant "FIGHT, FIGHT!" I stepped in front of Peter before he didn't something stupid, like actually trying to fight Flash. Like Peter could ever win against someone like him. Me, on the other hand, actually stood a chance.

"Oh look, Peter has got his girlfriend to defend him," Flash taunted "What are you gonna do? Fight me?"

"Well that was the general idea," I retorted. Flash snorted.

"How much damage do you think you can possibly inflict to me?" Flash teased mockingly.

"Oh I don't know?" I pretended to think about it. "How much damage do you think you can possibly inflict to me, a girl that trained every single bloody day of my life, in every fighting style known to man and some that aren't, by two high level assassins, two Norse gods, Ironman, and Captain Fricking America?" Flash paled slightly at the thought. Good, he should be scared.

"We'll have to see then," Flash said then tried to punch me in the face. I blocked the wild punch easily, because I had predicted all of the possibilities of moves that he would use and created a counterattack for every single one. I grabbed the same fist he had tried to hit me with, pulling him into a hammerlock and applied pressure to his elbow. Then, for the finishing touch, I kneed him in the back. He fell to the ground, hissing in pain. "Apparently I can do a lot of damage," I taunted then dropped Flash. He stood up and attempted to hit me again but before he had even threw back his arm, Gwen Stacy stepped into the circle.

She looked like one of those typical cheerleader girls, with long blonde hair, blue eyes, and a bronze complexion, but she was the complete opposite. Instead of wearing tight fitting outfits that made everyone who wore them look like hookers, like the cheerleader types, she wore very respectful and modest clothing. Like, for instance, today she wore a mid-thigh length grey pencil skirt with a black long sleeve blouse over a cream stereotypical modern detective's coat, nothing like what my Great-great Grandfather Sherlock Holmes would of wore. Yes, one of my ancestors was Sherlock Holmes, I'll get to it later. Back to the story. On her feet she wore over her knee length navy socks, pulled up, under black knee length boots. Her hair was tied up in a short pony tail and her straight fringe was styled with a slim black headband. When I first met her I thought she was one of those stuck up bitches but I was mistaken. She was a super intelligent, caring girl, with a bit of a mischievous side that she kept well hidden, especially from her police father on top of her being a Mutant. But enough on Gwen. Back to the story. "Flash, Flash!" Gwen shouted, hands on her hips in a disapproving manner. "Are we still on for after school today? My house, 3:30? I hope you've been doing your homework. Last time I was… very disappointed in you," she stated, publicly shaming the "Great Flash Thompson". Note sarcasm. "Can we please…?" Flash suggested to Gwen, trying to take her arm.

But she stood her ground, shook off his hand then stated calmly "no Flash, how about we go to class? How about it?"

"Whatever," he muttered, stalking off. Gwen did the same, but not before winking at me. I rolled my eyes at what she was applying. The crowd disbanded, sensing that there wasn't going to be a fight. I helped Peter up. He looked like he was going to have a rather nasty bruise where Flash had hit him. "Are you alright?" I asked, already knowing various possibilities of the answer.

"Only because you stepped in," Peter said then lifted up his head and looked at me. He gasped. "Angel?" He asked, very surprised. I smiled when he used my nickname from when we were little.

"Long time, no see," I answered.

"It's been a very long time," Peter agreed.

I nodded my head. "About nine years, three months and four weeks, give and take a couple of days."

Peter smiled at my exactness, which was a family trait. "How's the family," he enquired, curiously.

"Well everyone's moved back into the tower, so we're all a big, happy family again," I answered. "You got a phone?" I questioned.

"Duh," Peter retorted, smiling to show that he didn't mean to insult me, if he did.

"Then can I have your phone number genius," I countered, a playful banter passing between us, just like old times

"Sure." He gave me his phone number and I gave him mine. I'm not going to put them in, for personal reasons and because I don't want ya all to stalk us.

"See ya Pete," I called to him as I walked away from him to next period, which, much to my horror, was English.

"See ya Angel," he called as he walked the other way, to the science block. Just as I got into class, the shrieking of the siren echoed through the dimly lit classroom. Another torturous lesson with Ms Mandals. Don't get me wrong, I like English. I don't like, on the other hand, our horrible hag like teacher, who thought that droning on about words like "Coxcomb" and other Shakespearian words that are not used today, was what English was all about. Oh well what could I do?

I pulled about my phone and unlocked it. It was only an IPhone 3, not a 4 or a Starkphone that my Dad had offered to make for me. I know that sounded snobby but I didn't intend for it to it to sound like that. Up to a couple of months ago I had been using the cheapest smartphone I could find, but then I accidently dropped it in a puddle and it had been fried. I managed to save the SIM card but everything else was too far gone for even Tony Stark to fix. So he had offered to go out and buy me a phone. I was reluctant because my father has very extravagant tastes in almost everything. He almost bought me an island for my sweet sixteen but mum had managed to change his mind, which is a very hard task because dad was very stubborn. "Like father like daughter" mum sometimes said, which I can relate to. Kind of. So when he came back with an IPhone 4 I was shocked because I had told him, very clearly, not to get me anything to flashy. But here I was, using it like any other stuck up wealthy brat. I had even gone to the trouble of buying a leather TARDIS flip case for it, where I kept all of my cards for different things. I entered my passcode, which I'm not telling you so don't ask, and opened one of the most addicting games have ever downloaded, Piano Tiles. Our hag for a teacher tottered in and, with withered claw like hands, wrote the theme of today's lesson on the board, which, I think this is how she spelt it, Abecedarian. What is that, some kind of cooking spice? I sighed, slid my phone into front left side pocket of my leather jacket, pulled out my English extension textbook that Mum had got for me and started to do some actual English. Not hag English.

Music was pumping through my black earphones as I swayed from the sleek modern elevator into the slightly rustic main dining room. Placing my laptop bag down on the mahogany wooden floor I glanced around the dining/kitchen area then up to the rafters to see if there was anyone home. I don't think there was. I pulled out one ear bud and called to JARVIS, which was our AI butler for those people who didn't know, "Where is everyone, JARVIS?"

"Mrs Potts-Nee-Stark is currently working, Ms Romanoff and Mr Barton are offsite, doing a mission from SHIELD, Mr Odinson and Mr Laufeyson are on Asgard, and Mr Stark is in his workshop and has asked to not be disturbed, Should I get the elevator ready Miss Stark?" JARVIS asked politely.

"You know me so well JARVIS," I answered, jokingly and then hopped into the elevator, listening to Fat Bottom Girls by Queen. Don't judge my music tastes, I listen to modern music too, it's just that I listen to classics like Queen and AC/DC too.

The elevator opened at I heard AC/DC blasting full volume through the speakers. Dad was fixing up something to do with his Ironman suit because it was lying out on a table, with wires and other electrical components sticking out of it. "JARVIS mute," I shouted to the AI over the cacophony of AC/DC Highway to Hell. JARVIS muted the music immediately, as I entered the passcode for the door. Dad looked up, his short raven hair sticking up in spikes, grease all over his hands. "JARVIS, I asked not to be disturbed," He complained to the AI, then looked at me, with a smile when he realised who it was.

"Can I go out tonight?" I asked politely, fiddling with some loose wires on the work bench.

"Who are you heading out with?" Dad asked, taking on the relaxed but interested father role. He wasn't that protective anymore because of multiple reasons, the main one being that I'm 16 now and also have been trained in most martial arts.

"Just Gwen and a couple of her friends, we're hanging out at the Institute," I replied. Before you guys ask, no Gwen or any of her friends don't live Insane Asylum. The Institute is just slang for the Charles Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters. Yes Gwen and her friends are Mutants. They're some of the only people you don't judge me based on their opinions on my parents, mostly because some of them have saved the world multiple times. "Sure, just make sure that you're home by 11," Dad replied, before getting back to fixing up the Ironman suit. Dad and I get on extremely well because he's not super protective of me, which I already mentioned didn't I? Oh well. I nodded then left Dad's work shop, instructing JARVIS to turn back up the music before I hoped back into the elevator.

I hopped out of the shower, dripping with little water droplets, my hair clinging to my wet back. I strolled over to my dark mahogany wardrobe and heaved opened the heavy wooden door. It banged open. After a bit of rummaging through my wardrobe full of clothes I selected a knee length slightly fitted translucent dress with ¾ length sleeves and a small collar. The dress's pattern was black with little white stars dotted all over it and golden buttons down the front. It matched my leather jacket that I wore today at school. I located that particular leather jacket on my floor under my jeans. Under the dress I stretched on a pair of black 60 denier tights that were tucked into a pair of bright red converse high tops with black and white checked laces. To top it off I put on some jet black mascara and eyeliner with red and black tiger striped eye shadow and lastly a little bit of ruby red lip gloss. I picked up my cell phone and slipped it into my pocket. I was just going to walk out the door of my bed room when I spotted my red crystal stud earrings and silver spider necklace laying on my bed side table. I picked them up and pulled them on as I ambled to the ground floor of Stark Tower.

Gwen showed up a little while later. She drove up in a navy convertible, roof down of course, with the rest of the gang sitting on the back. There was 5 of us, Gwen, Sophia, Tom, Kharlie (pronounced the same as Charlie), and me of course. Sophia and Tom were sitting in the back while Kharlie was shotgun and Gwen was driving. I hoped into the back of the car next to Sophia. Sophia was the same age as me, 16. She had come from China 10 years ago so she still had the looks and the accent but spoke English. She was average height with a slim and athletic looking figure and had long black hair, longer than mine! It was streaked in fluro pink and tied up in two high ponytails on the top of her head. Her skin was pale, the colour of freshly fallen snow, emphasised by the dark black face makeup she always wore and the two fluro pink diamond birthmarks arranged in a vertical pattern in the middle of her forehead. But the most interesting personal attribute was her eyes. She had fluro pink irises rimmed in black instead of white. She was wearing her usual outfit, a cross between a punk rocker and a Goth. She was outfitted in a knee length worn black duster over a ripped fluro pink fitting t-shirt, a black short jagged edged layered mini skirt with fluro pink diamonds dotted on it, and knee high leather lace up boots with fluro pink laces. The rips on her t-shirt revealed a tight fitting black singlet underneath and the rips on her tights revealed fluro pink tights underneath. Her make up consisted of jet black mascara and matching colour lipstick, and fluro pink eyeliner. For jewellery, she was wearing silver wing dangly earrings and silver Chinese character pendant on a silver chain. Tom was the youngest of the gang, he was only 15. He was quite tall, lanky and was lightly tanned, his skin was the colour of bronzed peach. The colour not the fruit! He had golden brown longish shaggy hair, and his eyes had one light blue iris on the left and a soft green iris on the right. He was wearing slightly worn dark navy jeans under a faintly loose electric blue t-shirt decorated in shadowy grey lightning bolts pattern I think because I could only see the very ends poking out from under a panther black hoodie with lots of different pattern clouds on the chest. On top of his head perched a pair of electric blue rimmed sunglasses and around his neck was a shadowy silver lightning bolt on a thin murky silver chain. Kharlie was the oldest, he was 17 but he didn't look it. He was into surfing and windsurfing so he was built like a swimmer. He had broad shoulder and chest muscles with stocky built biceps, abs and solid legs. It wasn't insane muscles like the body builders but it was noticeable. Kharlie had coffee coloured skin and short onyx black hair, styled in short dreadlocks that just reached the end of his ears. His irises in his eyes were chocolate coloured, flecked with gold. He was dressed in a worn navy pair of jeans under a plain forest green V-neck t-shirt. Over the t-shirt he was wearing a caramel brown leather biker jacket and around his neck he was wearing a jade pendant, shaped into a four leafed clover, which hung on a black cord. Like some boys, he had a piecing on his left ear, which was a bone spiral that went through his ear. Gwen had gotten dressed up too. She had shed her school clothes and was currently wearing a halter neck navy dress, decorated with little white flowers and a sash made out of the same material that sent under the bust part. It looked like one of the dresses worn be women in the 1950's era. Over the dress she wore a white cardigan with sleeves that finished just below her elbows and on her feet she wore a pair of navy flats with silver studs on the toe part. Gwen didn't normally wear makeup but today she did. She was wearing smokey eye makeup but in sky blue, navy eyeliner and matching mascara, and clear sparkly lip gloss. For jewellery she was wearing an owl studs with a heart shaped diamond in the middle of its belly, an owl pendent with onyx crystals for pupils and a diamond on every feather tip, and a silver charm bracelet from her mother. It had a charm from every one of her friends and family to represent them. Like, for instance, I was a silver deer stalker hat, to show my connection to the famous Sherlock Holmes, who was my Great-great grandfather.

"So, what are we doing today, guys?" I asked as we zoomed along the road.

"Tom, Kharlie and Gwen want to go bowling, I'm not fussed where we go, so it's all up to you," Sophia informed me. Tom and Kharlie turned to look at expectantly and Gwen looked at me from the review mirror. "Bowling it is," I stated and Tom silently fist pumped. I rolled my eyes and then added "I'm paying."

"Sure," everyone piped up at the same time. I smiled. There are some perks about being a Stark.


End file.
